


Currents of Fate

by TripleB851



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-11-16 16:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20863118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TripleB851/pseuds/TripleB851
Summary: As the 2013 spring semester at Blackwell Academy winds down, Chloe Price becomes plagued by doubt and insecurity, fearful that Rachel Amber will become the latest person in her life to abandon her. Desperate to prove her worth, Chloe searches for a way to ensure their escape from Arcadia Bay while Rachel unwittingly marches toward her tragic fate.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Chloe POV - Friday, April 19 th 12:30 am

Pushing her way through a set of double doors before nearly stumbling over her own feet, Chloe Price stepped into the pool building at Blackwell Academy. Having recently concluded an extensive “smoke sesh” with Justin Williams and rest of the skater boys, she was suddenly struggling with the onset of the effects from the marijuana mixing with the beer consumed earlier that evening. Initially confident in the subjective nature of her moderate sobriety, the blunette had underestimated the difficulty in walking prior to bidding farewell to the skater boys. Venturing in search of her best friend, and if she was being honest, her only friend, Chloe scanned the immediate area for a blonde wearing a blue feather earring; Rachel Amber.

“Rachel…” the punk muttered, calling out to her friend.

Fully regretting her decision to have partaken in the “smoke sesh,” Chloe sought the assistance of the nearest wall to maintain a vertical position. Observing the typical scene of a Vortex Club sponsored party, she questioned her decision to let Rachel talk her into attending. The blunette always hated these parties on a part of feeling out of place, but Rachel wanted to attend. Therefore, on account of the punk’s desire to be with the blonde, she found herself an unwilling attendant of yet another Vortex Club party. As the event was in its final stages, the music and lights had stopped, leaving the area eerily silent and saturated in red light. With majority of the party goers having departed, only temporarily incapacitated patrons remained within view. To her left, Chloe spotted some poor sap with their head in the trash, puking their guts out. While on the far end, there was a concerned friend leading someone in the restrooms. Unable to locate the blonde, the punk begrudgingly acknowledged, the most likely location remained the VIP section, typically reserved for the elite members of the Vortex Club.

“Great…” Chloe muttered sarcastically, glancing at her phone. “What the fuck? Where is she?” she scoffed, after confirming for the fourth time that she hadn’t received any calls or texts from the blonde.

Chloe: Where are you?

Resigned to the inevitable, Chloe pushed herself off the wall before making her way toward the VIP section, using the wall for additional support as needed. Shortly thereafter, the prospect turned daunting in her current state after assessing the remaining distance between herself and her destination. Under the cloak of the red light saturating the area, the path before her was littered with trash and various pieces of pool paraphernalia. After brief consideration was given to abandoning the quest, she reluctantly resolved to press on after realizing that the half way point had been crossed. Approaching the goal, while side stepping trash and other debris, the punk nearly lost her footing after inadvertently stepping into the puddle that had created a slick surface on the tile floor.

“What the… how is this safe?” the punk muttered, frustrated by the precarious nature of the tiled walkway.

Returning her attention to the task at hand, the blunette let out a primal growl as an outlet for her increasingly bitter disposition. Mercifully arriving at the VIP section, she paused in trepidation before reaching out to clasp the side of the curtain. Stepping inside after pulling the curtain back, Chloe momentarily observed the scene before her. Mirroring the main section of the party, minus the inebriated individual violently discharging the contents of their stomach, the VIP section was similarly populated. Eventually spotting someone she recognized, the punk moved toward one of Rachel’s cohorts; Hayden Jones, currently engaged in a “smoke sesh” of his own with other club members.

“Kari Price!? What the fuck are you doing here?!”

Caught off guard by the outburst, Chloe lost her footing before nearly falling to the floor. As there was only one person that would refer to her as "Kari Price," she was able to infer the source of confrontation was from none other than Blackwell's number two on the call sheet; Victoria Chase. Regaining her composure, she turned to focus her death stare in the direction of the provocation, staring down the tall blonde and her accompanying pose.

"Fuck you... Vic. I came with Rachel," the punk answered back, slurring her words as she spoke.

"Well she left a while ago... Aw did she ditch you?" Victoria chided in response, drawing a snicker from her stooges. "Can't say I'm surprised... look at you Price, you're a train wreck. I bet she can't wait to drop your ass after she graduates.”

"Fuck you... she wouldn't do that, but hey... maybe when we're gone... you'll finally be the top bitch in this hell hole," Chloe countered, her words flailing as she searched for an equally scalding burn.

Smiling at successfully getting under the punks skin, Victoria disregarded the insult. "Right... clearly I was wrong... you're not just dead weight Price. I mean, look at what you've accomplished since your ass got expelled. Yeah... you sure got the world at your fingertips.”

"Fuck you... what was I... this shit pits got nothing going for it."

"And that's why it's such a perfect fit for you. Face it Price... you're a burn out, you're never getting out of Arcadia.”

“That's not... you're wrong..."

Seizing the moment, Victoria pounced on the blunette like an animal taking down its prey. "Wow... okay, I'm bored now... get the fuck out of here Price. Rachel left you behind... you should probably get used to that.”

At a loss for words, Chloe struggled to match the ferocity of the attacks before stammering out a suggestion that the blonde should perform sexual intercourse on herself in an attempt to save face. Thoroughly embarrassed, she snuck out the back door of the pool building as quickly as her current condition permitted. Rounding the corner to the adjacent side of the building, the blunette paused to take a much needed moment regain her composure. As much as she hated to admit, Victoria's words cut her deep. Due to in part to the suggestion of others, the very real fear that Rachel would in fact abandoned her after graduation began to percolate in the back of her mind. After few moments of self-torment, she forcefully pushed those doubts away before reaching for her phone in search of proof that those fears were unfounded.

"Fuck... what the shit?" Chloe shouted under her breath, a resurgence of doubt coinciding with pulling the phone away from her face.

Having received no answer from Rachel's phone after numerous calls, the punk decided to try her luck knocking her door. Walking through the familiar scene of Blackwell's main courtyard in solitude, Victoria's words echoed through her subconscious. While their relationship had continued to evolve over the years, they had largely remained as close as they had become during their quest to find Rachel's birth mother. While the blunette's heart told her that Rachel would never abandon her, her mind wasn't as convinced. Her mind was filled with doubt and insecurity from prior traumas, frequently replaying the loss of her dad William and former best friend, Max, convinced it was only a matter of time before it happened again.

Arriving at the Prescott dormitories, Chloe made her way inside before continuing to the second floor. Find in the area deserted, she continued into the dimly lit hallway of the main corridor. Reaching the outside of Rachel‘s door under the cloak of the dim light, the blunette felt a sinking feeling in her stomach over the sudden urge of anxiety. Nerves getting the better of her, the punk hoped Rachel would be located inside, as if that reality could be somehow world into existence. Terrified over the potential implications of the alternative, she closed her eyes and softly knocked on the door.

“Rachel...” the blunette whispered a moment after the knock.

Standing alone in the hallway in silence, Chloe listened intently for any indication someone was located inside after receiving no answer. After a second knock garnered no response she began cycling through the possibilities in an effort to placate her fears. The result being the conjugation of two likely scenarios, one of which signified the affirmation of her fears, the other, I dissolution of them. Inside, the blunette would find whether Rachel had a banded her at the Vortex party, or passed out as a result of excessive drinking. Although the latter was certainly the preferred option Chloe‘s insecurities wouldn’t let her leave without knowing the truth. Racking her brain for an answer, eventually the simplest solution presented itself, checking to see if the door was locked. To her mild surprise, and slight annoyance, turning the handle revealed the door to be unlocked.

“What the fuck... why don’t people lock their doors here?” The blunette scoffed, despite the circumstance tilting in her favor.

Taking a breath, Chloe braced for the worst for pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Unable to see after side stepping into the dark room, she used her phone as a source of light as the moonlight blocked by the curtains. Venturing further into the pitch black, the blunette paused in trepidation after calling out the blonde’s name. After a moment of hesitation, the punk panned the phone over the bed to find the answer she desperately sought. Her heart dropping at the sight, Chloe stumbled back as a surge of anxiety hit like a punch to the gut as the light revealed an empty bed.

“Fuck...” the punk muttered, becoming disillusioned by what she saw.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Chloe POV - Friday April 19th 1:30 pm**

“Chloe! Get your ass out of bed!”

Letting out a soft whimper, Chloe turned over in bed after being roused from sleep by the barking of her stepdad, or rather step douche as she preferred, David Madsen. Staring up at the ceiling, the memory of the previous night returned to the forefront of her mind. Replaying the nights end in her mind, a subdued sensation of anxiety began radiating from the blunette’s abdominal area as she glanced over at the phone on her nightstand. Reaching over, the blunette grab the phone, bracing for a confirmation of her suspicions. A tap of the screen illuminated the phone, revealing the time, 1:30 PM, and a background image of her and Rachel. The image, taken several months prior, caused the blunette to wince in anguish over a memory of happier times surging to the forefront of her mind. Turning her attention back to the phone, and the reality of the moment, she sighed over the absence of a call or text from the blonde. Holding on to a sliver of hope, she unlocked her phone to check her messages in the unlikely event that the notification simply had been cleared.

**Chloe**: So what happened tonight? Sent: 1:14 am

Indicating that the phone was functioning property, only an empty space existed below the last message she had sent the night before. Tossing the phone aside, the punk turned the opposite direction before pulling the blankets over her head and an effort to hide from the outside world. Part of the blunette believed, or at least wanted to, that she was just being paranoid. But as of late, seeds of doubt began to fester, playing to her insecurities. Consequently, Chloe was unable to escape the sense that Rachel had been pulling back over the last few months. Being told that she wasn’t good enough for Rachel was a common enough occurrence, but until recently, the blonde always stood by her side to defend her. Rachel had always been the golden child, but even though everyone wanted a piece of her, she had always made time for Chloe.

Further reinforcing the doubt in Chloe’s mind was the sense that she had already been through once before. Drawing parallels to the months after Max had moved to Seattle, Rachel seemingly had an ever decreasing amount time available for the punk. As with her childhood best friend, there seemed to a gradual transition in the dynamic of their relationship. In addition to spending less time together, a perception existed in her mind that she was always the one to initiate contact. The primary difference however was the fact that Rachel hadn’t moved away without her. Following that train of thought, the prospect of the blonde leaving her behind in the same manner as the hipster became real in her mind. Terrified over the notion that if that were ever to come to pass, the blunette established the notation as an absolute certainty, now fixated on the idea that history would repeat itself and she would find herself once again abandoned in Arcadia Bay. Visualizing the scenario internally, the resulting image drove her to the precipice of a panic attack. Her heart rate slightly elevated in conjunction with the onset of dry mouth; Chloe swore to leave her hometown, either with or without the blonde.

Abruptly, while Chloe was stewing in her own self-pity, a soft deep echoed from her phone. After a momentary pause of disbelief, the punk toss the blankets aside and jumped out of bed faster than she had imagined was possible. Scrambling to the phone, before witnessing the blondes name displayed on the screen, she frantically unlocked the device to uncover the contents of the message.

**Rachel**: Hey... sorry about last night. I was pretty messed up, I just went back to the dorms and crashed.

The brief moment of relief upon the receipt of the message was swiftly crushed after reading its contents. Instantly arriving at the conclusion of the blonde had just lied to her, the punk shoulders caved in on themselves before I collapse onto the foot of the bed. Dropping the phone to the wayside, the blunette place her head in her hands while struggling to contain an urge to scream as her insecurities ran wild. Releasing her clenched fist from her hair, she fell back onto the bed before closing her eyes as a feeling of numbness set in over the whole affair. In the midst of taking intermittent deep breaths in an effort to calm her nerves a second beep I got from the phone.

**Rachel**: Did you make it home okay?

**Chloe**: I checked your fuckin dorm, you weren’t

After an initial reaction dictated entirely by anger, the blunette paused mid text before eventually deleting it entirely, after a moment of introspection. Cycling through the messages, she meticulously read through them again, eventually fixating on the implications of a specific word choice. During the initial reading, the blunette instantly assumed Rachel had suggested that she had went back to her own dorm room. Although, a subsequent reading revealed a small caveat had been overlooked. Rather than indicating she had returned to her dorm room, the message simply reference the dorms. This slight deviation open the possibility that she had spent the night in a different room, thereby telling the truth. Returning to a state of uncertainty proved to be even more frustrating for the blunette, despite the accompanying slim margin for hope. Knowing Rachel had lied allowed her to be angry, not knowing was a return to doubt and uncertainty. As it turns out, the only thing worse than your best friend lying to you, is not knowing whether or not they lied.

“Chloe! I said get your ass out of bed,” David shouted after pounding on the door.

Startled, the punk shot back, “I am up! God... You’re such a dick!”

“Well then get your ass downstairs, I got a job for you!”

Acknowledging the step douches command, Chloe had placated the man, albeit momentarily. Affording herself some extra time, she determined that it would be necessary to medicate if she was going to have to face her stepfather. Sliding back up to the head of the bed, the brunette retrieved her stash of marijuana and pipe from its hiding place before packing a small bowl. Opting in favor of a smaller dose was due in to the fact that she would need to be able to mask the signs in front of David. Ready to administrate her medication, the punk leaned back on the bed before partaking while listening to “Santa Monica Dream” on her phone. With her disposition now much more suited for an encounter with her stepfather, she decided to respond to Rachel before heading downstairs.

**Chloe:** Yeah. Eventually I sobered up enough to drive home. But I can’t talk; step douche is hella off his shit again.

**Rachel**: Sorry! Meet up after class?

**Chloe**: Yeah sure

Relieve that Rachel wanted to meet up after class; the blunette proceeded downstairs to face her stepfather. As part of Chloe’s predisposition to instigate, she skipped down on the stairs in an excessive fashion to deliberately antagonize David with the noise. Rounding the corner after reaching the bottom, the punks struggled to suppress the smirk over the glare being directed toward her from the man as she ventured past the kitchen into the living room.

“Why do you have to fight me at every turn?” David chided, shaking his head.

“Why do you have to be such a Nazi?”

“See... like that, every single time I try,” David countered, before switching gears after further consideration. “So here’s what you’re going to do...”

“How much am I getting paid for this?” Chloe interjected, cutting him off.

“Sorry, what?” The stepfather stammered in disbelief. “Getting paid? How much do you pay for rent? For food? Nothing... So that’s what you’re getting paid. Your degenerate ass is going to start chipping in around here.”

“Whatever...” The blunette replied dismissively. This wasn’t the first time David had gone on about contributing around the house, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Following her stepfather through the garage, they eventually stopped at the side of the house. Rounding the edge of the garage towards the side yard, Chloe became immediately unsettled by the sight before her. With a rather smug expression on his face, David stood next to a stepladder; holding a pair of gloves, a gardens shovel, and a small bucket.

“Gutters...” the punk bemoaned.

“That’s right... you’re going to clean the gutters,” David proclaimed confidently. “With spring here, these need to be cleared before the summer rains.”

“Ugh... I fucking hate cleaning gutters.”

“Yeah... it’s pretty disgusting,” the security chief admonished sarcastically. “Don’t like it? Get a job... or better yet, move out.”

“Whatever...” The blunette muttered as the tools her stepfather had been holding were thrust in her direction.

“Oh... and all of that crap better be in the bucket,” David added before turning to leave. “When I get back from work, I better not see any of that on the grass.”

Standing on top of the ladder muttering expletives, Chloe intermittently tossed a shovel full of wet leaves, sticks, and mud off to the side. Glancing down to her right, she smiled defiantly at the trail following her progress down the side of the house. The punk had swallowed her pride even getting on the ladder, so this act of defiance was necessitated to salvage the remnants of her ego. Having reached one edge of the house, the blunette paused for a moment to reflect on the cityscape of Arcadia Bay. Glancing over the roofs of the surrounding houses, her eyes followed the horizon inland toward the top of the hill. Falling the on the towns highest point, see gazed on the ghost of her past failures, the specter of Blackwell Academy. 

“God I hate this shit pit...,” she uttered, “I got to get the fuck out of here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of my new fic! In this Amberprice fic, I will be detailing Rachel last days before her tragic disappearance in the darkroom. I hope to provide closure to her character while also providing further context to Chloe’s mental state and motivations in the first game. Please comment with any impressions, suggestions, and/or theories. With that said, thanks again for checking out my fic, and I hope you enjoy the story I have written for these characters we all hold so dear.


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